


Steve

by JadeyKins



Series: SuperWhoAvengeLock Stories [1]
Category: Avengers, Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M, Superwhoavengelock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JadeyKins/pseuds/JadeyKins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers has an unexpected guest one night after training. He reminisces on how he met Captain Jack, and they discuss someone they used to have in common.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve

Steve kept a steady rhythm as he punched the bag. He liked the late nights by himself in the gym. The world had changed. Everything so loud and constantly stimulating. An hour or so alone in the gym at the end of the day helped him clear his head. Helped him think.

But he’d heard that creak on the wooden floor about ten minutes ago. Had to be an ally or an agent, not many people could sneak into a S.H.E.I.L.D. facility without tripping some kind of alarm, and people who broke into places didn’t wait beside the door for over ten minutes. Whoever it was didn’t want to disrupt him.

Steve finished his routine with the bag and stepped back. He panted and picked up the towel from the nearby bench. “Okay,” he said as he wiped the sweat off the back of his neck. “What do you want?”

“To talk.”

Steve spun to face the speaker.

The man in the long greatcoat had been leaning against the wall beside the door. He wore the same kind of outfit he had the last time Steve had seen him.

Only problem was that the last time Steve had seen him was 1943.

“Must be dreaming,” Steve replied as he tossed the towel back down. “Unless you’ve got a plausible reason you’re here, Jack.”

“You’re not dreaming.” Jack crossed the floor between them slowly.

“That’s not an explanation,” Steve said with a don’t-pull-my-chain edge. “Tell me how.”

Jack sighed and a world weariness shined in his blue eyes. “I’m immortal.”

Steve’s brow shot up in surprise. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was.”

“How long?” Steve asked.

“Since before we met.”

“Funny you didn’t mention it during the war.”

Jack frowned. “I couldn’t. It was classified.”

“Sounds like an excuse,” Steve countered. “We fought together.”

“I know.”

“Good men died.” Steve took a deep breath and his own brow furrowed as he thought back. “That’s how you made it back from some of those missions. Bucky thought he’d seen you shot once.”

“He did.”

“And you lied.”

“Had to. Those were my orders. Give support to the Allied forces and to not let them know about my condition,” Jack said professionally with his hands clasped behind his back.

Steve sighed and let the frustration out.

They’d met in 1943. A rainy night in France. The men had been in their tents, except for himself and Bucky. Maps and intelligence required more diligence than Steve had guessed, but he hadn’t minded. He liked trying to test everything out before a mission. Figure out where the weaknesses were and how to best to exploit them.

Peggy had come into the tent and immediately Steve and Bucky had stopped what they were doing. She quirked a smile at Steve and a blush had almost broke out across his cheeks again. Only thing that had stopped him had been the arrival of the tall dark-haired stranger. “Captain,” Peggy had begun, as the stranger stood at attention, “we’ve a new man assigned. Captain Jack Harkness.”

Jack saluted, Steve doing the action in return.

“Where were you stationed?” Bucky had demanded with a heat Steve hadn’t expected.

“All over England, sir.” An American accent. 

“Before that.”

“Cardiff.”

Bucky had glared at the new man and almost scrambled across the table. He would have if Steve hadn’t grabbed him tight around the shoulders. Only a long friendship had let him see Bucky’s flash of anger before he moved. “He’s a spy!” Bucky shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Calm down, soldier,” Peggy had said. “He’s on our side.”

Bucky had wrenched free of Steve’s grasp and shoved his hair back out of his face. “I knew Captain Harkness. He died in the Cardiff Blitz.”

Jack asked, “How’d you know him? You’re infantry. He was RAF.”

Peggy had whirled. “So you don’t deny it.”

“No,” Jack had said with confidence. “I am a spy. For our side. And unfortunately that means cover stories. I’m sure you’re familiar with that practice, ma’am.”

“I am not familiar with stealing names from our fallen men,” Peggy replied.

Tempers were rising quick. Steve leaned on the table and drew attention back to himself. He’d discovered that his new body had given him a bit of charisma. When he moved, people looked. “I just need an explanation of why a spy is here and not out in the field.”

“HQ thought you could use someone with a few more subtle techniques, sir. You point, I gather information.”

“So I’ve got my own spy now, that’s it?”

“Yes, sir. I’m trained for field combat as well.”

Steve had chewed that over in his mind. Bucky was still rigid beside him. Angry. Drops of water poured down on the tent’s roof and splashed on the ground outside. The rain had a soothing way. Making decisions, Steve gave a quick nod at the captain. “Right, then. We’ll discuss this more in the morning. After you’ve gotten some sleep. Carter, can you show Harkness to a tent?”

“Yes, sir,” Peggy had said. Jack gave a quick salute, one that Steve echoed, before walking out of the tent with the British agent.

“We can’t trust him,” Bucky hissed the second they were gone.

“Why not?” Steve had started rolling up maps. “He’s got a borrowed name. I don’t disagree that it’s in bad taste--”

“We’re knee deep in war and he walks in here in a spotless uniform?” Bucky pointed out. “He’s a spy for the other side.”

“I’m sure Agent Carter will check his qualifications.” Steve leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “What’s got you so bent, Buck?”

“Told you. I knew the real Harkness.”

“Yeah. You failed to mention how.”

“We came over together, the first time,” Bucky said. “We struck up a correspondence.” 

“He was a friend,” Steve supplied. “You never wrote me unless it was about coming home.”

“Jesus, Steve, don’t analyze it. It’s not part of a strategy.” Bucky waved at the tent’s door. “He’s a liar. We can’t trust him.”

“If HQ did send him, he’s here to help.”

“And if they didn’t?”

“Well, we’ll have ourselves a convenient prisoner.”

Jack’s credentials had checked out though, and the following months had been easier when he was around. Always ready with a smile and the kind of joke that made everyone cringe. Only Bucky seemed to continue to hate him, though Steve could never figure out why. Ever since his transformation, Steve’s friendship with Buck had seemed to deteriorate, and the growing friendship with Jack hadn’t helped the cause.

It was one of those regrets Steve had about 1943. Choosing Jack’s cheerful friendship over Bucky’s seething anger a couple of times. Late nights drinking and discussing back home in America with Jack and Peggy. 

In the present, Steve began unwrapping his hands. “I’ve been awake for months, Jack. Aliens tried to invade the city. Why weren’t you called in?”

“Nick Fury hates me.”

Steve gave him a skeptical look.

“I’m not kidding,” Jack insisted. “He really hates me.”

“Why?”

“It’s complicated.”

“You think I’m too stupid to understand?” Steve said. “Or too naïve? I’ve been the butt of a few too many jokes when agents don’t think I can hear them. Don’t insult me.”

Jack sighed. “I had a few situations and I didn’t call S.H.E.I.L.D. Didn’t file a report. Didn’t even let them make copies of anything. And then someone came in and blew up my base. A whole wealth of knowledge destroyed because of my carelessness.”

“Okay, that doesn’t sound like the kind of thing Fury could forgive.” Steve sat down on the bench and Jack slowly followed suit. “How’d you get in here today?”

“He doesn’t know I’m here. Natasha owed me one.”

“Fury will be angry.”

Jack shrugged. “He’ll have to deal.”

A quiet silence fell between them. Steve leaned forward, resting his arms against his knees. “So, you’ve been alive this whole time.”

“Yes.”

“They let me see her file, but it’s not the same.”

Jack nodded. “What do you want to know?”

“Tell me you and her never--” Steve hesitated.

“We never did. It was you she fell in love with. We had to convince her to give up the search. Those conditions, in 1943? We never could have guessed that you were alive.”

“I still don’t know how I made it through.”

“Something in the serum?”

“Must have been.”

Jack rested a hand on Steve’s shoulder, which made the other man look at him. “She never married, but she wasn’t unhappy, you know? More like, after you, no one else was good enough. She kept fighting, all the way to her end.”

“Thanks,” Steve said quietly.

Jack’s leather wriststrap began to beep. “Gotta run before the director finds me.”

“Be careful.”

“You too. You’re in the big leagues now.” Jack walked away a few steps, the coat flowing out behind him, before spinning back. “It’s cliché, but she wouldn’t have wanted you to wallow in grief over her.”

Steve flashed a small smile. “Maybe not. But after her, who’s going to be as good?”

**Author's Note:**

> This was sort of a play-test for creating a whole series of SuperWhoAvengeLock pieces (of which Misery Needs Company series would belong to too). Was it boring? Over done? Interesting? I'm dying for any kind of feedback (even negative. Can't improve without negative.)


End file.
